


three is definitely a crowd (four is dangerous)

by hey_you_with_the_face



Series: flash ficlet [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (rightfully so), BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Canon-Typical Violence, Cashier Dean, Crack, Dean Freaks Out, First Dates, M/M, Mob Boss Castiel, Naomi makes a big mistake, Nervous Dean, Slight fluff, Walmart, still don't know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 21:19:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11299038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hey_you_with_the_face/pseuds/hey_you_with_the_face
Summary: Dean and Cas go on their date but uninvited guests show up and things go down hill extremely quickly....





	three is definitely a crowd (four is dangerous)

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, apologizes to RavensCAT, this took me much longer than is should have (mainly because I have a chronic problem called 'too many WIPs-itis' which is completely and utterly my own doing). 
> 
> Also because due to the awesomeness of her prompt and my attempts to stick to the 1.4k limit (or at least as close as I can), this will have to be a two part-er.
> 
> Finally, you'll notice I upped the rating for this one, this is just because of the violence tag I had to add. It's nothing too violent but if you're worried, message me on tumblr (blue-reveries) and I'll tell you what happens in this part.

Despite how cool Dean played his hand at the park after Cas asked him out, he was a bundle of nerves by the time he finally made it back home but not in they way he’d expected.

He’d expected to be worried about going out in public with a known mob boss, a man who killed people and who had a target on his back but to his surprise it was the mundane he was agonizing over.

Namely, what should he wear?

Cas had texted him on his walk back, telling him to be ready at eight and that they would be going to one of his restaurants. Dean remembered him mentioning the few restaurants he owned; they were mainly fronts for Cas’ illegal shit but they were actually quite popular around town.

Dean was able to distract himself for most of the day by getting caught up on the chores he’d put off that morning: cleaning the bathroom, scrubbing down the kitchen and thing like that. Five o’clock found him finishing up his laundry which inevitably led him, and his thoughts, to his closet.

 _Just fucking pick something already_ , he thought angrily to himself as he stared down at his two final candidates. _They’re just clothes._

One the left side of his bed was a black button down shirt with a nice pair of light colored jeans and on the right, a pair of dark grey dress pants with a light blue shirt and tie. Both were pretty decent options which made it so much harder to decide.

A little before eight found Dean sitting on his couch, leg bouncing up and down with nerves. He was wearing the black button down and jeans which he’d only decided on after being forced to flip a coin. He agonized over his final choice to the point that he stood up to hurry to the bedroom to change but a knock at the door stopped him.

Shit, Cas was early.

Sweat broke out on his palms as he walked to the door. He dug down deep into his stores of self confidence because he refused to open the door looking like some fresh faced teenager freaking out over a first date.

Dean Winchester was smooth, dammit!

It turned out he didn’t have to worry about looking nervous because once he opened the door and saw what was on the other side, all he could concentrate on doing was not drooling.

Cas always wore his rumpled suit to Walmart and his apartment so Dean had thought that he knew what to expect but apparently his usual suit wasn’t date worthy. Instead, Cas was wearing an obviously well tailored suit that made him look like something out of the a catalogue. 

Or Dean’s naughty dreams.

“Wow, you look great,” he couldn’t help but blurt out, his face turning red instantly as he realized how very not smooth he sounded. Dean wanted to smack himself in the head but was stopped by the bright grin that crossed Cas face.

“Thank you,” Cas said and Dean swore on his Dr. Sexy collection he saw a faint blush color his cheeks for a second before he nodded at Dean’s clothes. “You look very good yourself.” There was an awkward pause where they just stared at one another before Cas spoke again. “Shall we go?”

Squashing down the part of him that demanded he rush back inside and change into clothing option two, Dean delved deep into his reserve of cool and gave Cas his best panty/underwear dropping smile.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

 

As Dean had expected, Cas’ place was swanky.

There were actual linen napkins for crying out loud. 

The place was packed, full of well to do couples on dates and large tables of corporate stooges that Dean could practically feel judging him for his jeans; he cursed the fact the coin he’d flipped had fallen on heads. 

Thankfully for his nerves, Cas had a private table in the back set for them; it was his own personal table and, as per his orders, no one was seated in that part of the restaurant that evening. Though Dean did notice a few men whose outfits screamed mob boss security lurking around the area. A fancy ass waiter took their orders and poured them each a glass of wine that probably cost more than Dean’s apartment. 

Unable to take the build up of nerves, Dean chattered aimlessly about whatever popped into his mind: work, the latest episode some TV shows, hell, even the damn linen napkins. Cas didn’t seemed perturb about this constant stream of one sided conversation; he just smiled and nodded, adding a few comments here and there until Dean finally ran out of things to talk about.

“Do you feel better now that you’ve gotten that out of your system?” he asked, still smiling. 

Dean flushed again but nodded. It felt like all his nervousness over their date had been pulled out of him with the millions of words he’d just dumped out all over the table. 

Cas clapped his hands and, as if by magic, the waiter appeared with their food. “Then how about we enjoy our dinner and relax,” he said as the plates were set down in front of them; the waiter left without another word and Cas met his eyes, his gaze full of reassuring sincerity. “You’re safe here, Dean. You’re with me and this is only a date. Take away the fancy setting and this is just you and me at your apartment eating take out.”

This analogy was oddly comforting and Dean felt his muscles untense, a movement that had Cas smiling, and they dug into their food with gusto. All in all, things were actually going pretty damn well.

Until the uninvited guests showed up.

“Novak, we have a matter to discuss.”

A sharp female voice cut through the soft lull of conversation and restaurant noise in the background and interrupted the story Cas was telling him about the time he convince a client to buy water he’d ‘smuggled in from Canada.’

The voice was enough to put Dean on edge but the change in Cas’ expression was what had Dean’s meal swirling in his stomach unpleasantly.

Slightly goofy and sweet Cas was gone.

Castiel the mob boss who would cut off limbs and put them in discount garbage bags was in his place.

“Naomi, now is not the time,” Castiel said icily. He sat up straight in his chair, pulling his hand from Dean’s. There was murder in his eyes that Dean had never seen before. “Please leave my establishment and return on the proper day.”

A sleekly dressed blonde woman walked into Dean’s vision. She smiled bitingly at Castiel and shook her head. “I don’t think so, we’re talking now,” she said. Suddenly she looked at Dean, her eyes harsh and calculating, “If you’re worried for you little pet, Ishim will take good care of him while we discuss business.”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Dean noticed his fingers inch closer to the steak knife next to his plate. All the feeling left Dean’s hands and feet as his heart started beating so fast, it felt like he’d been put into overdrive.

This was not fucking good.

“You and your mad dog will not even look in his direction or so help me there will be consequences,” Castiel said softly, every word laced with so much warning they were practically radioactive. His fingers grasped the knife but Naomi didn’t even seem worried.

But Dean was.

Naomi laughed, “You act as if you have any choice.” She suddenly glared at Dean. “Ishim, grab the whore, I think Mr. Novak needs a reminder of who he’s dealing with.”

The next few seconds moved so fast, Dean barely registered any part of them.

Well, except for the feeling of utter terror that fell over him.

A rough hand grabbed his shoulder, meaning to haul him up right, but as soon as the hand had appeared...it was gone.

Literally.

Because as soon as that hand touched him, Castiel’s own hand lashed out at quick as a rattlesnake and plucked it off his shoulder; the offending appendage was pulled roughly forward and placed onto the table. There was a flash of silver and a bellow of pain as said appendage was quickly removed.

Leaving a severed hand lying neatly on the quickly reddening table cloth. 

Dean’s heartbeat pounded in his ears and he was vaguely aware of the bodyguards rushing forwards, the screams of the now one handed man, Naomi’s shrieking curses and Castiel’s swift orders to his men and his harsh words to his rival. 

This..this was crazy. These people were fucking psychopaths. There was a _fucking hand_ laying next to his plate. A million thoughts rushed through his head with one being the loudest, screaming at him in a near constant babble; it was impossible to ignore. So he didn’t.

Dean pushed away from the table and ran.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor, poor Dean; all he wanted was a nice date and that evil Naomi wouldn't let him have it.
> 
> (Also, I'm pretty sure what Cas did with the steak knife is impossible in that span of time but if anyone could do it, it would probably be Cas if Dean's life was threatened)
> 
> I plan on starting part two as soon as I have this posted so hopefully it will be up soon but I won't make any promises since I have that whole 'I tend to let the plot bunnies run rampant' thing I have going on.


End file.
